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There’s something haunting about education buildings at night, Momo is convinced of it. No matter how old she gets, no matter how many years she spends teaching, no matter the fact this is a major college building; she will always be on edge being here after dark. But the annual dean’s gala is a requirement for all professors, and even if it wasn’t, the newest professor in the English department would be here to support her star pupil.
It wouldn’t be so bad if she hadn’t forgotten her faculty id in a lecture hall earlier this afternoon. But now instead of sticking to the festivities at Dancer’s Hall, she’s braving an abandoned hall half an hour after she celebrated her student’s accomplishment. The fact she’s already tipsy off champagne definitely doesn’t help her paranoia either.
So when she hears whispers coming from down the hallway, in the same direction as the room she’s heading towards, she only shrieks a little. She stumbles backwards and wonders if she should just abandon her id for the morning. But tomorrow’s usually her remote lecture day, and she’ll curse herself before she drives the hour onto campus just for the smart id she needs to log into her faculty account.
The voices don’t stop so she does a simple warding gesture and inches forward. There’s not a person around, and the whispers echo off each wall it feels like. Still, she is able to tell she’s getting closer and closer by them slowly getting louder.
When she rounds the final corner, she realizes that the sounds are coming exactly from the room she’s going to. Not only that, it’s the only room with its main lights out and flashing lights flickering through the closed door’s window. Because of course the spirits are congregated in the one room Momo actually needs.
Yep, nope, she doesn’t actually need her id after all. In fact maybe she doesn’t need to teach either. 29 Is old enough to retire right? She never needs to step on this haunted campus again. She’ll just–
Right as she’s about to book it, she hears something she recognizes. It’s an all too familiar conversation –between Ken Takakura’s Tetsuo Okita and Kei Yamamoto’s Masaru Koga– regarding Okita escaping while he can. She’d recognize the scene anywhere, the movie too really. If anything now that she knows it’s The Bullet Train, it’s so painfully obvious she can’t believe she ever thought it was ghosts.
That still begs the question who’s playing the movie in a random room in a campus building this late in the night. So, with way more ease than a moment ago, Momo walks up to the door and throws it open way more dramatically than intended. From the bright hallway, it’s hard to fully see into the room, but she can see one person in a chair near the back of the room and the projector playing The Bullet Train just as she thought.
The movie watcher shouts and scrambles to their feet as she flicks on the lights. It’s a mean move for sure, but also this person scared the ever living shit out of her so they deserve it. Or maybe not… Since she recognizes the man that’s shielding his eyes and blinking rapidly.
Ken Takaura. Not the same as The Ken Takakura of course. This Ken is way less attractive and would be more likely to be The Ken Takakura’s grandson than the man himself. But it’s Ken alright. Same nerdy circle glasses, same wild and unkempt hair, and same boyishly cute face. But it feels like that's where the similarity ends.
Momo’s ex boyfriend is taller than she remembers him being in high school, and a fair bit chubbier too. And the Ken Momo knew would never be caught in a wrinkled graphic tee and sweats. Nor would he have even touched beer, let alone have two cans on the desk he was at.
“Gah, what the hell? Who barges into someone’s movie time and–” His voice is deeper too, more gruff in a way only age can. But his wide brown eyes are clear as he dumbly stares at Momo, mouth wide open. “Miss Ayase.”
It’s barely a whisper but it’s enough to snap Momo out of her stupor at least. She chuckles and rolls her eyes, letting herself into the room enough to lean against the wall by the door. “Momo’s fine, you know. Pretty sure the days of you calling me ‘Miss Ayase’ ended at least a decade ago.”
No matter how different he may look, he’s definitely still the dorky Okarun she knew with how he awkwardly shuffles and looks to the side. “R-Right.” He clears his throat. “Sorry…”
“You’re good.” Momo waves a hand dismissively. “Clearly interrupted a primetime showing. I should be the one apologizing.” With a laugh she walks over to the desk at the front of the room and swipes her id –which is laying on the floor just behind the desk. “Just came back to grab this. I’ll get out of your hair and let you get back to Jun’ya Sato’s masterpiece.”
Before she can even turn, Ken shouts. “Wait!” Her startle gets her to stop as he continues. “I mean. What’re you doing here? All dressed up too.” He gestures at her, without breaking eye contact.
Their difference in attire is something Momo hadn’t even thought about, but now that he’s brought it up, it makes sense. She’s not super dressed up, but she is in a fairly nice halter blouse and midi skirt. A far cry from his overly casual outfit. She can’t help but be a bit embarrassed, even if she has no good reason to be. “Oh, I just was grabbing my id, I need it tomorrow to sign in to Classpad for tomorrow’s lectures.”
“You’re a professor?”
“Yep, for the English department.” Momo nods before tilting her head. “What’re you doing here by the way? Pretty sure we’re the only people in the building this late.”
He rubs the back of his neck and looks at the projector screen playing Koga’s final moments. “I’m teaching here too. In the physics department though.” With a gesture towards the screen, he laughs. “On Thursdays I teach a night class that ends at 10, and then take advantage of the big projectors and free electricity to unwind. Fridays I only have meetings and office hours so today’s basically my Friday for teaching.”
Momo groans. She leans back against the table and rubs her forehead. “Lucky bastard. I have two four hundred level lectures tomorrow. If it wasn’t for the fact I always do them online, I’d have killed myself already.”
“Same old Momo, huh?” Ken laughs at her, and despite the jab she can’t help but laugh along.
It’s almost like they’re back in high school, the ease they have together. Even with the suddenness of their reunion, she doesn’t feel an ounce of tension with him. If anything, she feels lighter than she has in weeks.
The hiss and boom of Koga’s dynamite in the movie startles her for a second, it being louder than the rest of the movie at this moment. It’s a dramatic scene, with Koga tossing sticks over the railing in a desperate attempt to hold off the police even as his wound bleeds out. The 50 plus year old movie captures Momo’s attention easily, though really any of Jun’ya Sato’s movies would.
“Wanna stick around?” Ken’s voice brings Momo back to the room, and she turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He offers up the chair next to his as he settles back down. “Could be like high school all over again. Staying up late watching these old classics.”
Honestly, even if she wants to head home and crash for the night, there’s something appealing about staying here and catching up with an old friend. Especially one who was pulled away from her by life rather than any falling out on either of their parts.
Momo shoots him a bright smile and walks to the chair he offered. “Sure, Okarun. Let’s catch up.”
The groan he gives at his old pet name is already enough to make the night worth it for her, a warmth in her soul washing away any exhaustion she might have.